With that, on the impulse of sheer despair, he cast at her with
all his force. The door swung behind her, and the flask flew into
fragments against it. Then, as Sweyn's grasp slackened, and he met
the questioning astonishment of surrounding faces, with a hoarse
inarticulate cry: "God help us all!" he said. "She is a
Were-Wolf."
Sweyn turned upon him, "Liar, coward!" and his hands gripped his
brother's throat with deadly force, as though the spoken word
could be killed so; and as Christian struggled, lifted him clear
off his feet and flung him crashing backward. So furious was he,
that, as his brother lay motionless, he stirred him roughly with
his foot, till their mother came between, crying shame; and yet
then he stood by, his teeth set, his brows knit, his hands
clenched, ready to enforce silence again violently, as Christian
rose staggering and bewildered.
But utter silence and submission were more than he expected, and
turned his anger into contempt for one so easily cowed and held in
subjection by mere force. "He is mad!" he said, turning on his
heel as he spoke, so that he lost his mother's look of pained
reproach at this sudden free utterance of what was a lurking dread
within her.
Christian was too spent for the effort of speech. His hard-drawn
breath laboured in great sobs; his limbs were powerless and
unstrung in utter relax after hard service. Failure in his
endeavour induced a stupor of misery and despair.
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